


at first punch

by hypatheticallyspeaking



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Sparring, based on the discord chat, don't underestimate each other, the title is lame i apologize, they're so cute ok, unbeta'd as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 02:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11244333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypatheticallyspeaking/pseuds/hypatheticallyspeaking
Summary: He doesn’t know why he agreed to this. He really shouldn’t be fighting, especially since the last time he ended up breaking Lance’s wrist. Then again, it was Lance who suggested that he wouldn’t honor the new person—Pidge—with a fight.





	at first punch

He doesn’t know why he agreed to this. He really shouldn’t be fighting, especially since the last time he ended up breaking Lance’s wrist. Then again, it was Lance who suggested that he wouldn’t honor the new person—Pidge—with a fight. He scowls as he wraps his hands, the rough material slipping between his fingers and wrists. He doesn’t want the guy in charge of the gym to suspend him again.

“You’re antsy,” a low voice comments from behind him. Keith doesn’t even need to turn around.

“Thanks for the support, Shiro.”

The older man snorts at that. “Don’t forget,” he says, “Patience—”

“—yields focus,” Keith finishes, grabbing the red helmet from his former-instructor’s hands. “I know.”

Shiro turns him around, pushing him to the center of the sparring mat. “Good luck.”

What Keith is unprepared for is a girl—young woman, he supposes—who barely comes up to his shoulders. Actually, saying that would be very generous. She’s a tiny little thing, but there’s definition in her arms and legs. He shifts his weight into a more neutral stance, while she shifts on the balls of her feet. There are bruises smattered across her freckled skin, and Lance whispers something in her ear. She nods as Coran steps forward to referee the match. They bow, Coran swings his arm down, and their fight begins.

He anticipates her to use her size to her advantage, keeping light on the balls of her feet. She starts out with a quick jab to his solar plexus that he dodges at the very last second.

She’s fast. And the smirk on her lips is an indicator that she knows  _ exactly _ how to use it to her advantage.

He retaliates with a few jabs of his own. She ducks out of the way, arms up. His next move is a kick, twisting his hips as the action lands solidly against her forearms. She counters back, dodging and weaving in what he quickly identifies as kickboxing as she goes for a forwards kick. Either this girl is straightforward and goes by the book, or she’s just toying with him.

Regardless, he’s gaining respect for her.

She lands a roundhouse to his torso, and there will definitely be a bruise on his ribs tomorrow. The force behind her kicks is certainly going to be his downfall in this fight, unless she manages to get within range for a grapple. But he has confidence that he would be able to pin her if he can just get her to the ground.

Closing the distance, he goes for a grapple around her waist. He’s fully prepared for her to be overwhelmed by his body weight and fall. Instead, she pushes one of his wrists to the side, grabs his elbow, and uses the momentum to send him to the mat, sprawled on his back. The breath is knocked from his lungs as he stares at the pride in her eyes. Within a second, he’s pinned, and she sits on his chest in triumph.

“What was that?” he asks in awe once he’s regained the ability to speak.

“What, you thought I only studied one martial art?” She clicks her tongue in admonishment, “Don’t underestimate me.” Pidge stands up, extending a hand for him to take.

He smiles at that. “Go again?”

It’s only once they’ve sparred over a half-dozen times, sweat dripping down their foreheads and Coran calling for them to give others a chance, that they concede to taking a break from sparring with each other. They’d come close, neck and neck for a while, but ultimately he’d been victorious more times than she had.

“Pidge, huh?” He says, as she takes a seat next to him. Lance and Hunk share the center mat, and they both watch the ongoing spar between their friends.

“Family nickname.”

He hums. “You’re a good fighter.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her shake her head. “Couldn’t beat you.”

“Still, you’re the first person I haven’t been able to read in a long time.” It’s a compliment, even if he sucks at giving those. “And I’m going to have bruises tomorrow.”

“Thanks?” Her posture changes, a little bit more pride appearing on her face. “And you’ve got solid force behind your strikes. Your defense could use a little work… You’re accustomed to weapons,” she realizes.

“You kept getting in range for grapples, but I like people being a sword’s length away.” He purses his lips. “You’re accustomed to fighting people who are either way bigger than you or who are your size,” Keith notes, remembering how her sweeping kicks were aimed to affect an opponent’s balance and cause them to fall and her punches were rapid with the intention of pushing an opponent out of the ring.

“Read through me that quickly, huh?” She takes another sip of her water, eyes trained on Lance and Hunk. Lance dances around in the fluid motions of capoeira, while Hunk’s preferred martial art is judo. They manage to make it an even match.

“It’s been my life for years.”

“Guess you could teach me some things then,” she muses.

“I get early access to the studio if you ever want to train or whatever.” He never offers. Not even to Shiro. That’s his personal time, so why is he doing this?

She smiles, grateful. “I need the practice.”

“If you say so.” He’s not infatuated with the girl who pinned him to the mat twice, he tells himself, trying to not ingrain the smile into his memory. He’s just being a good person. Right?

*

It becomes their thing, meeting up an hour early and training until they’re tired, then resting until the others show up. It persists for months as they learn more about each other, their strengths and weaknesses. When the studio decides to do a tag team match for the fun of it, they obliterate the competition as though it’s just another day training.

And when the others arrive one day to see them kissing, hands intertwined, no one is surprised.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, ok so I wrote this whole thing in a matter of hours. Come find me on tumblr: @spacedorksandlions


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